


Life is a celebration

by Televa



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Dancing, M/M, True Love, Weddings, england's cooking sucks, norfolk square garden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 17:14:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2200179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Televa/pseuds/Televa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What could be a better way to spend a chilly evening than going to a garden to think, only to remember all those happy memories that happened not so long ago?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life is a celebration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jesus_girl](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=jesus_girl).



> Good evening all! Once again I've managed to write another Fruk fic filled with their love. (Seriously, this is kinda getting out of hand. Help me!) Anyway, as you may already guess, this is unbetad och engelska är inte min mådersmål, so there might be some small typos etc. Lemme knoow! 
> 
>  
> 
> Oh and btw, before I let you actually read the text, if you ever visit London you just need to go to Norfolk Square Garden. It's simply mesmerizing and only 200 meters from Paddington undergroud + train station!

A stroll in the park was something Arthur did every time he had a chance. There was this one really nice and peaceful place near the Paddington station. The park itself was a bit small due being located between two streets full of hotels, but what it lacked in size was made up with the atmosphere.  The park, Norfolk Square Garden, was never full of people, and this evening was the same: as Arthur entered the garden there were only three people nearby excluding himself: a homeless man with a shopping cart and an enormous amount of plastic bags just outside the gates, and an old couple collecting their belongings, clearly in order to exit.

Arthur sat down, deeply inhaling before letting the breath free. The place around him was comforting, the streets around him were full of life no matter of the time of the day, and most of the people around him to whom the evening was nothing but a normal evening made of routines were _his_ people, his folk. And nothing could’ve done him happier. For others the square may have been only a part of London, a city that was England’s heart, but for him the square was a part of the city of London that was England’s heart. Part of his heart.

The high trees looked like green pillars against the darkening night. Arthur was content with himself there, but his mind wasn’t. It knew there was something missing there, but what could he do to it? As the world passed by Arthur thought about the events of the early 20th century, when he had finally given in and agreed to form an official treaty with the man that so many times tried to propose to him. Francis was now back in France which was only a one-hour-flight away, but even that felt like the other side of the world. _Control yourself! It’s not like this is the first time you are apart_ , Arthur reminded himself. But, after spending so many decades fighting Francis verbally, physically and mentally, a day without him being somehow interrupted by the Frenchman was a rare day.

As the night crawled in old memories filled the blond’s mind. Once he had tried to make Alfred pancakes for breakfast, but for no one’s surprise he had destroyed the pan. And the stove, too. And once, not so many summers ago, Francis had woken him up at 5 A.M. only to tell him that he had had a wonderful dream about them having a picnic in a park nearby.

Thinking about Francis and picnics brought up a memory that Arthur was very, very fond of. It was from the day they had finally managed to have a real, mundane wedding.

_They whirled and danced and flew across the floor, the steady tempo of the orchestra’s new waltz guiding them. Their friends and family were there and their two adorable sons were supporting the music with their bass and guitar. Arthur had been happy many times before, but he had never been so happy to share that precious moment with his newlywed husband who was leading them into the best waltz they had even shared._

_With every step they took Francis smile grew bigger and bigger. Everything was finally settled between them. There were going to be neither wars nor acts of international violence between the nations no longer. Only thing that mattered was that after so many horrible years of blood and pain and fear they finally had a chance to celebrate their love without being threatened._

_Francis tightened his grip on Arthur’s waist as they performed the last act of bending. The song ended and they were met with loud applauding from their friends. Matthew and Alfred stepped off from the stage and walked to hug their parents._

_They all were happier than never before._

Arthur was forced back into reality when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Who the fuck was sending him a message at this time of night?

Oh, it was from Francis. The Brit eagerly opened the message to see what his beloved asshole of a husband was writing. “ _Arthur, go the fuck to sleep already. It’s cold outside so finish your tea and head back to inside. I won’t nurse you when I come back tomorrow. Bonne nuit, cher_ ”.

Oh that fucktard just knew how to mess with his thoughts. Nonetheless, Arthur stood up and gave a last look to the garden he so adored before returning to his phone. Quickly he tapped a reply.

“ _I am not cathing a cold just by being outside, thank you very much! Don’t come before ten o’clock, I need to sleep before dealing with you, love.”_

 

 

 

The next morning, Arthur woke up at 8 o’clock only to find Francis staring him so close that their breaths mixed. He had never shrieked louder.

 


End file.
